"Love follows knowledge."
"Beauty above all beauty!"
– St. Catherine of Siena

Sunday, March 10, 2019

Comments to Dante’s Paradiso, Cantos VI thru IX

The two full cantos on Mercury are fascinating and interconnected, though the connectivity is not apparent.  In Canto VI the Roman Emperor Justinian recounts the history of ancient Rome and links that history as an essential prerequisite to the advent and crucifixion of Christ.  God didn’t have to make it so, but He did for a reason.  In Canto VII we get a theological understanding of why God chose to have His incarnate Son undergo as a sacrificial offering as the means for the redemption of mankind.  On the surface there doesn’t seem to be any connection between the two cantos, but let’s look deeper.

Justinian (also known as Justinian I, also known as Justinian the Great) was emperor of Roman Empire from 527 to his death in 585.  If he had lived a hundred years before, he would have been known as Emperor of the Eastern Half of the Empire, and probably one of two emperors, one for the east and one for the west, but in 476 the western half collapsed and was run over by Germanic tribes and divided into individual kingdoms headed by Germanic rulers.  So Justinian was the sole emperor of what remained of the Roman Empire.  This eastern half would later be referred to as the Byzantine Empire, but even when it was referred to as such, its citizens referred to themselves as “Romanoi” or in English, Romans all the way to its final demise in 1453.  So the Roman Empire survived an incredible span from 27 BC to 1453 AD, some 1480 years.  And that doesn’t include the Roman Republic before the empire.

From Justinian’s point of view, the Roman west had only collapsed fifty years before, so it was within the realm of possibility to reconstitute its original integrity.  He assigned the job of conquering the lost lands to his great general, Belisarius (mentioned in line 25 of Canto VI), and he did a remarkable job gathering back at least half of what was lost.  By the time Justinian and Belisarius were done, they had incorporated back North Africa and the Italian peninsula.  Unfortunately troops were needed in the east to defend against the Persians and there just wasn’t enough manpower to recapture the rest of the west.  Rome wasn’t built in a day, or even in a lifetime, and Justinian wasn’t going to be able to reconstitute it in a lifetime.  Holding on to the recaptured lands would also be short lived after Justinian’s death because what held the empire together was a shared identity, and now the demographics of the old Roman west had their own specific Germanic identities.  Still Justinian’s accomplishment was stunning and ambitious, which is why Dante has him limited to the sphere of Mercury, for those who on earth overvalued ambition and justice over humility and mercy. 

Which brings us to Justinian’s other great accomplishment, the synthetization of the vast Roman law that had accumulated through the centuries, going back to Rome’s founding.  Justinian organized it and synthesized it into a harmonious up-to-date body of jurisprudence that came to be known as Corpus Juris Civilis, or sometimes referred to as the Code of Justinian.  This was perhaps just as a remarkable achievement as the conquests in the west, and it had a more lasting impact.  Most continental European law systems today are based on the Code of Justinian, as well as the canon law of the Roman Catholic Church.  It continues today to influence law systems, and so you can see why Dante places Justinian in the sphere of Mercury.

Now you can also see why Justinian is so important in Dante’s themes.  The Roman Empire in Dante’s view was critical to the advent of Christ and it showed the proper organization of human government and justice, which is one of Dante’s three overarching themes in the Divine Comedy.  Dante (the author) believed Justinian was so important that he has the character stretche from the end of Canto V all the way to the beginning of Canto VII.  Indeed he has Justinian be the sole, uninterrupted speaker of an entire canto (Canto VI), a privilege no other character is given, not Virgil, not even Beatrice.  Justinian’s canto is a recapitulation of Roman history and his life achievements, but they are cast in a theological framework which suggests so much more.

With that background, there’s no need to review Justinian’s scan of Roman history.  Its selectiveness is interesting, and one could probably do an essay on the significance of each detail he chooses to enumerate.  The symbol of the eagle as the Roman standard I believe is a motif that runs throughout the Commedia, and comes to a culmination further in Paradiso.  And we can see how Justinian’s Roman history culminates into the reigns of Augustus when Jesus is born and Tiberius when Jesus is crucified.  He goes on further in the history to the destruction of the Jewish Temple under Titus, which completes the double “vengeance” indicated in lines 92 and 93.  Personally I think “vengeance” here is a poorly chosen word but all the translations I’ve seen seem to use it.  Does God enact vengeance?  God enacts justice, but leave that as it may.  The double vengeance is the retribution to the Jews for having Christ crucified and the retribution to humanity for Adam’s sin. 

Then Justinian skips seven hundred years, including his reign and the realm of the Byzantine east, all the way to the crowning of Charlemagne as Holy Roman emperor.  It is important for Dante to get to Charlemagne because that is for him the reconstitution in the west of proper civil government.  With Charlemagne the Holy Roman Empire is established, and the politics of Dante’s day deal with the degeneration from that Holy Roman ideal, which were a reflection of the ancient Roman ideal, with the Ghibelline and Guelph factions.  The civil order of his time for Dante are a corruption of the Roman ideal.

But there’s more.  Dante (the author) has Justinian give a fascinating detail about himself which is actually not historically true.  So in referring to the “hard task” of synthesizing the ancient laws, Justinian says:

'Before I had set my mind to that hard task
I believed Christ had but a single nature,
and not a second, and was content in that belief.

'But the blessèd Agapetus,
the most exalted of our shepherds,
brought me to the true faith with his words.

'I believed him. What he held by faith
I now see just as clearly as you understand
that any contradiction is both false and true. (VI. 13-21)

Dante has Justinian claim that he believed Christ had only a single nature, the Monophysite heresy, that Christ had only one nature, not both God and man.  There is no historical evidence for this.  Now Dante was either under the wrong impression or took literary liberty here.  Either way, Dante did not have to include this detail, and if he consciously took literary leave then he intended to suggest something significant.  The various Germanic kingdoms that had taken over the western half of the empire believed in some form of Monophysitism, mostly Arianism, as Justinian says of himself.  With widespread Arianism we see a degeneration from orthodoxy.  But Justinian in the text claims that Agapetus, the Pope in Rome, converted him from the heresy.  So when Justinian creates the new law code and presumably sets Belisarius to reconstitute the old Roman Empire, he is in the orthodox belief of Christ’s two natures of both man and God.

When we get to Canto VII and Beatrice explains why God chose to redeem mankind through His incarnated Son, Dante (the author) has established a number of dualities.  We are ready then for the central tenet of Christianity to be presented:

As a result, for centuries the human race
lay sick in an abyss of error
until the Word of God chose to descend,

'uniting human nature, estranged now
from its Maker, with Himself in His own person
by a single act of His eternal Love.  (VII. 28-33)

First notice how the redemptive crucifixion occurs in line 33 of the poem.  Do you think that’s an coincidence?  Of course not.  With Beatrice’s “for centuries the human race/lay sick in an abyss of error,” she is recapitulating a history prior to Christ just as Justinian recapitulated in the previous canto.  The “abyss of error” is a decayed state from the Edenic ideal, of which God corrects with Christ, just as He corrects civil government with the formation of the Roman Empire.  And the two, Christ and the Empire, reach their pinnacle at the same moment in time.  Justice and mercy are coupled together here perfectly. 

Justinian then when he is converted from Monophysitism to orthodox Christianity is enlightened into the dual nature of Christ.  But notice who converts Justinian, the vicar of Rome, Christ’s representative on Earth.  So what we have is an ecclesiastical head coming in union with a civil head to formulate the ideal.  The two form a marriage of civil and ecclesiastical leadership.  Indeed there are a whole slew of dualities that run through these two cantos: God and man, Christ in His double nature, Pope and Emperor, justice and charity, heaven and earth, flesh and spirit, ambition and humility, religion and state, Christ and Tiberius, Guelph and Ghibelline.

The ideal for earthly governance for Dante then is a marriage of state and religion.  It is not a separation of religion and state, as we speak of today.  It is not an empowering of one over the other.  It is of an equal marriage, man and wife acting in concert, which is a reflection of Christ’s double nature of God and man.  It proposes justice and it proposes charity working in unison.  It is of heart and mind.  One leads its citizens to heaven while the other establishes a society so that its citizens can flourish to be worthy of heaven.

Which brings us to the decay of Dante’s day.  The Guelphs and Ghibellines are factions which side with one of the head entities, the Guelphs with the Pope, the Ghibellines with the Emperor.  The current state of Dante’s society has become one where a perverse fight for an immoral imbalance between what should be equal entities.  The theological abyss of error prior to Christ is now an abyss of error of civil governance.  The God willed Pax Romana stands as the ideal from which decay occurred on either side of its timeline. 


###

Some random thoughts on these cantos. 

Fading into the other dancing lights, Justinian sings:

            'Osanna, sanctus Deus sabaoth,
            superillustrans claritate tua
            felices ignes horum malacoth!' --  (VII.1-3)

Translation: “Hosanna, Holy God of hosts/who by Thy brightness doth illuminate from above/the happy fires of those realms.”  The integration of Hebrew and Latin words creates another duality, that of two languages.

This tercet needs to be highlighted in the Italian.

Io dubitava e dicea "Dille, dille!"
fra me, "dille" dicea, "a la mia donna
che mi diseta con le dolci stille."  (VII.10-12)

Italian is not known for alliteration but Dante decides to show off his skill here.  Hollander translates this as:

I was in doubt, saying to myself, 'Tell her,
tell her,' saying to myself, 'tell this to my lady,
who slakes my thirst with her sweet drops.'

Dante (the character) here is speaking to himself.  At this point he realizes Beatrice can read his mind so instead of speaking directly to her he speaks to himself to tell himself to let her know.  It’s rather playful by Dante (the author), both the alliterative flourish and babbling to oneself.

The third question in Canto VII is rather interesting.  Why do things that God creates degenerate and die?  I’ve never heard Beatrice’s explanation that direct creations are immortal while indirect die.  Has anyone?  It sounds like something that might come from St. Thomas Aquinas.  Or Dante made it up. 

How wonderful that Dante (the character) sees Beatrice turn more beautiful as they enter the planet Venus.

I had not been aware of rising to that star,
but was assured of being in it
when I observed my lady turn more beautiful. (VIII.13-15)

And when he enters Venus, as with the moon and Mercury, he sees dancing lights, which are spirits under that planet’s influence.  But I love the double simile he uses to describe it here:

And, as one sees a spark within a flame
or hears, within a song, a second voice,
holding its note while the other comes and goes,

so I saw within that light still other lights,
swifter and slower in their circling motions,
it seemed in measure to their inner sight. (VIII. 16-21)

As sparks inside a flame or a particular voice inside a chorus, so he sees singular lights inside the planetary light.

When one light drew near and spoke, he introduces the planetary spirits in the most loving way:

            Then one, alone, drew nearer and began:
             'All of us desire to bring you pleasure
             so that you may in turn delight in us. (VIII.31-33)

Have you ever had a friend or group of friends you just love to sit with and talk?  Each person in that group delights in each other’s company.  This is perfect friendship, and this is what the spirit is proposing.  Next time you find yourself in a delightful conversation with friends, notice how you brighten (metaphorically) just as those souls in paradise brighten (literally) in their conversations.

The spirit is Charles Martel, and as we said earlier, not the Charles Martel that was the King of the Franks and grandfather to Charlemagne, but one who lived some five hundred years later and apparently had been a friend of Dante.  Charles’ discourse on the nature of begetting a variety of children seems like a fitting subject for one on the planet of love.  But I have to admit it’s unclear to me what Charles did in his lifetime that would place him under the influence of Venus.  It doesn’t appear to be stated.

We are quite clear, however, why the next spirit who comes forward is under Venus.  Cunizza da Romano was a woman who I picture to be similar to Elizabeth Taylor, women who had many lovers and many husbands.  One of her lovers turns out to have been the poet Sordello who we met in Purgatorio.  But Cunizza apparently had a late in life conversion experience and not only reformed but gave away all her money and worldly possessions.

I think a wonderful comparison could be made between Cunizza and Francesca da Rimmi who with her adulterous lover Paolo were consigned in the second circle of hell, that of lust.  Cunizza had many lovers; Francesca but one.  Cunizza treated marriage like a stepping stone to power and wealth; Francesca was forced to marry for political reasons to a cripple.  Several of Cunizza’s lovers were used for personal gain; Francesca truly fell in love with Paolo.  Cunizza lived to an old age, giving her time to repent; Francesca was killed by her husband as a relatively young woman and suddenly, not having the time to repent.  Cunizza did truly repent; Francesca was hardened in the self-righteousness of her actions.  Cunizza is in heaven; Francesca is in hell.  “Today if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts” (Heb 4:7, which is alluding to Ps 95:8).

The last light to step up to Dante in Venus is the spirit of Folco di Marsiglia, a bishop and so I assume why he is ruby red.  Folco had quite a history in his long life.  He was a love poet and a playboy, and so the rationale for being under the influence of Venus.  But he was also a Dominican friar when the order was just created by St. Dominic.  He was involved in combatting the Albigensian heresy, which is why Dominicans were first formed, but unlike St. Dominic Folco actually served as a soldier when the crusade to stomp out Albigensianism turned into a fighting war. 

When Dante (the character) first sees Folco, he sees him sparkle "in the bright rays of the sun" (l.69).  Which leads Dante to ponder:

There above, brightness is gained by joy,
as is laughter here, but down below
a shade shows dark when sadness clouds its mind. (IX.70-72)

That's an interesting tercet.  Above, meaning in heaven, joy makes one brighter; back on earth joy brings laughter, though personally I think I would translate "riso" here as smiles, joy brings us to smile.  But down below a shade grows darker when sad when he is made aware of his state.  As Hollander points out in the commentary of my translation, we never actually see that in Inferno.

Dante's address to Folco is startling:

'God sees all, and your sight is so in-Himmed,
blessèd spirit,' I said, 'that no wish of any kind
is able to conceal itself from you.

'Why then does your voice, which ever pleases Heaven,
together with the singing of those loving flames
that form their cowls from their six wings,

'not offer my desires their satisfaction?
I would not await your question
if I in-you'd me as you in-me'd you.' (IX.73-81)

It took me a while to understand that.  Dante is prodding, or perhaps lightly chiding, (does one chide in heaven?) Folco for not answering the question that are in Dante's thoughts, given that spirits in heaven can read minds.  He tells Folco that Folco's sight is "in-Himmed," meaning it works within the mind of God, and since God can read all minds, so then can Folco through God.  And then in the last two lines of that sequence Dante says, if the roles were reversed and he were in Folco's position and Folco in his, and Dante could read Folco's mind ("I in-me'd you") as he can read Dante's (you “in-you'd me") he would not be so tardy in answering.  This is great play both in poeticism and friendly jest.  Dante is creating these terms ("in-Himmed," "in-you'd," and "in-me'd" because this mind reading phenomena does not exist on earth, so there are no real language for it.  And how appropriate that one poet wordplays with another.


It is also fitting that the greatest spirit under Venus is Rahab, who though a prostitute aided Joshua (Book of Joshua) in the conquest of the Promised Land. She, like Cunizza and Folco, is redeemed by her actions.  Some have seen her as a prefiguring of Mother Mary in that she delivers Joshua into the Holy Land as the Virgin delivers Christ.  Interesting that Mary is an eternal Virgin and Rahab was a prostitute, a sort of inverse of each other.  Rahab is also listed in Matthew's genealogy as being in Jesus' lineage (Mat 1:5).


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